Even Grey Birds Sing
by CrackinAndProudOfIt
Summary: This is the First Fic, which the authoress continues to inflict upon the world for Nostalgic Reasons.


What a fool I have been! To think that the AInur could be bound to the Children of Ilúvatar without evil befalling, without grief in the end. Alas for my folly! Alas that I knew, I could see, but did I pay attention? Nay, in my pride I thought I could master my own fate and the fate of him I loved, that what was destined to occur before Arda was even born could be averted!

I wish now I had never seen him in those starlit woods that fateful day, capturing his heart and dooming us both. Such a union was unnatural, and assuredly evil would come of it! But did I think of it? I was too proud.

Much good, I suppose, came of our union, perhaps. Our precious daughter, our jewel, our rose, Lúthien, most beautiful of all Ilúvatar's works, was brought into the world, and of her much good will come, that I can see. But much anguish and grief would first come to us, to all of us, ere that good was reached or even fathomed. I also suppose our union resulted in the foundation of Doriath, the Hidden Kingdom, protection of Beleriand in the days of the stars, ere the arrival of the Noldor.

Ai, the Noldor! It is my own fault for the Second and Third Kinslayings, indeed, I myself caused them. Why did I stay and wed him? Why did I not let him journey on to Valinor? There he would have never become a king in Beleriand, never asked for a Silmaril. I am entirely to blame, my own pride and folly caused these evil events. If only I had listened to my minds above my heart! I should have known, nay, I did know! A wise fool I am, renowned for my knowledge but unable to see the results of my own impulsive actions.

Now I was back at home, if home it could even be called, the gardens of Lórien, once a paradise, once my own lands; now they were empty: devoid of joy and hope. I would not sing, I could not, if I had the desire. Alas that I had ever departed! 'Twould have been better had I stayed here forever with my beloved lómelindi, singing for the pleasure of the Valar. I sat here now, listening to the silence of my birds, staring into this mere, watching my own reflection, that of this body I had involuntarily reassumed. Sobs racked as my countless regrets flooded my weak and grieving mind.

"Melian?" said a resonant voice behind me.

Never had I heard my name pronounced more beautifully! I brushed the tears away as best I could before turning around.

I nearly mistook the figure behind me for my Elwë, what with his long silver hair, but it was not him. This man's hari was a darker, less metallic shade, and he was not near as tall as my husband. Nonetheless, I was drawn to his deep eyes, filled with the memory of years beyond count and wisdom to match. I recognized my old friend.

"Olórin," I whispered in a choked, barely audible whisper.

"You have returned," he said.

"Would that I had never left!" I replied, and another fit of grief took me.

He knelt down beside me, uninvited but not unwelcome. I buried my face in my hands, bent almost double, sobbing uncontrollably. Olórin put his arms around me, holding me as I cried, assuring me that I was not the fool I believed myself to be as I poured out my anguish to this Maia.

At long last my tears subsided, but at my side Olórin remained. Then, suddenly, as if he had heard someone call for him, he rose and faded away into the shadows. I waited and waited, and the next morning, he returned. This became our routine, for days, weeks, it might have been months, it might have been years, but each day as he left I grew increasingly anxious for his return.

Some days we spoke little, others we conversed for hours on end. We spoke of matters grievous and important, of matters trivial and light. Whatever was said, whatever was done, I began to revel in Olórin's company. In fact, my thought began to dwell more on Olórin, his compassionate ways, his handsome face, his encouraging smile, than on my beloved husband, my precious daughter, or even my mistakes.

Then one night it came to me. It had taken so long for me to realize what was going on: I loved Olórin.

Instantly I felt sick. I was married to Elwë, I could not love Olórin. I was betraying my husband and daughter. I was a Maia, though, and had I not myself said that it was not right for the Eldar and Maiar to bidn to one another? It could not be held against me for finally finding someone of my own people, as was proper. There I was, a fool again! And I began to cry.

As I wept, I felt something remarkable happen. I can only assume it was the bond between a husband and wife. I felt memories, so vivid they seemed to come alive and I lived them again, memories of all of the times of joy and sorrow, of war and peace, of disaster, and utter bliss, in my life with Elwë. When they ended, I was crying harder than ever before. Then, suddenly, as clearly as though Elwë were there in the garden next to me saying them, I heard the words _Be free_. And in that instant, our bond broke. I sobbed for the rest of the night.

At last my tears began to dry as the grey hour ere dawn's arrival approached. I heard footsteps behind me. I ran to Olórin, throwing my arms about his neck. Even as the sun rose, we kissed.

And the lómelindi sang again.

A/N: I said it was strange! Please tell me what you thought, but be kind! This is my first story after all!


End file.
